


Watch Out For Her

by Elfy (elfowlgirl)



Series: Domestic Demon AU [1]
Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Demons, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfowlgirl/pseuds/Elfy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She seems stunned by this development, a present for her from a person she’s never met, but then again, not all people would find a demon to be a gift. Domestic demon AU. (Originally posted to Tumblr on April 4, 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Out For Her

It takes Ashe a moment to notice, still blinking sleep from her dreary eyelids. The sun is barely peeking in over the horizon and through the thin curtains across her window, the faintest gleam shining against her lamp. Torn between waking up, like she knows she should, and curling into a ball and falling back asleep - it’s only when she realizes that no, she’s never had a lamp that looks like that _anywhere_ in her bedroom do her eyes fly open, sitting up in her bed, moving to grab the closest weapon to her in a mixture of fury and fear.

The object is, of course, the pillow she spent the night snuggling with, which slams into the shape with a surprisingly strong t _hud_. The thing makes a muffled sound, the pillow sticking to it for a moment before hitting the ground with a softer _pfff._

Her vision clears, sleep fading from her eyes, and she can see now that it is in fact a man standing in the corner of her bedroom, almost right in front of the door. His shape isn’t crystal, nor is it hazy, and all she can do is stare. A pair of thin red shapes rest on his forehead. It takes her a moment to realize that they are _horns_ and that the thing sweeping back and forth behind him is, in fact, a pointed _tail._

He gives her a bow, arms sweeping aside in a flourish, only to look back up and her and grin, a full mouth of daggers. “Hello,” he says. “My name is Markus.”

She sits for a moment, almost stunned by the sheer _audacity_ of this stranger, to enter her bedroom while she was sleeping and introduce himself like it was normal. “And what the fuck are you doing here?!” she finally finds the words to exclaim, spitting hatred like fire, which seems to surprise him.

Markus looks at her for a moment. “Wait, you don’t - she - after -” He cuts himself off mid-ramble, then attempts to resist the urge to laugh. “You mean after that whole ordeal, you don’t even know about _demons?_ And here I was expecting… Do you even know who Inien _is?_ ”

“No…?” Ashe quietly reaches around, never taking her eyes off of him, and grabs the pillow she’d been sleeping on with one hand.

“Whoa, whoa, I’m sorry,” he takes a long pace forward, then seems to realize how uncomfortable he’s making her already and backs up into the wall. “Let me take a moment to explain.”

The intruder clears his throat, and bows again, ignoring Ashe’s glare as he does so. “My name is Markus and I am, in fact, a demon - though the circle I’m from hardly matters. And, less than an hour ago, I was summoned by a… witch, shall we say, that goes by the name of Inien. She made a deal with me, though I won’t say what for, on the single condition that I, quote, ‘watch out for her’. No name given, just your address.” He stopped for a moment and looked around the room. “Nice place.”

She throws the pillow anyway. Markus barely manages to duck, giving her a bemused look as he does so. There’s a moment of silence, a glare cutting through the room as she looks at the newcomer. With a sigh, Ashe buries her head in her hands, fluffy white bedhead covering the rest of her face and masking her expression. “…Go stand in the hallway and give me like, ten minutes. We can discuss all this bullshit over breakfast.”

He slides out the door and into the hallway, closing it quietly behind him. She is briefly thankful that Gregor won’t be awake for another half hour or so, and Thog until noon.

She stays like that for another minute, letting the entire conversation sink in. She finally climbs out of bed, and goes to pick up her mistreated pillows.

—

Ashe is picking at a bowl of salad. She continues to glance at the demon at the end of the kitchen table in between bites, then to the knife she placed within arm’s reach as she set the cutlery. “What’s with the suit?” she finally asks as she manages to spear three tomatoes at once on her fork.

She can see him clearly, now. Thin and tall, blond hair tucked into a short, loose ponytail down his back, behind ever-so-slightly pointed ears. His eyes are bright and blue against pale skin. For whatever reason, he’s wearing a fairly formal suit (though the specificities escape her at so early a time).

Markus shrugs. “Dangerous for the summoning, dapper for the strangers, dull for the situated. If you don’t like it, I suppose I can attempt to look a bit more… _normal?_ ”

“Sure,” she responds, half out of curiosity and half because she enjoys the way he hisses the word like an insult to his very being.

There’s a bright flicker of magenta and blue flame that envelops him, and when the flames dissipate he does, she admits to herself, look considerably more plain. A long sleeved black shirt, jeans, and a pair of glasses. She can see the slightest bit of ink - a tattoo? - peeking out and making its way up his neck, but other that that, he looks… well, rather like a hipster, if she had to be perfectly honest.

The horns and tail remain, but after a sharp look, he frowns and they dissipate as well.

“This is pretty fast for you to be situated,” he says.

She pops a tomato into her mouth. “You haven’t met Thog or Gregor yet.” As if on cue, there’s the loud thud of feet on stairs, though it sounds more out of haste than weight that they cause such a racket. “That’d be Gregor, going to the gym.”

As a man races through the kitchen, she holds out a piece of toast in one hand. He takes it, mumbles a grateful thanks as he takes an enormous bite, and then disappears into the garage.

“So before we get heavy into the whole ‘demon’ business,” she finishes off her breakfast, “I do have a question or two.”

“Go ahead, though I’m somewhat limited by what I can answer.”

“Isn’t ‘Markus’ kind of boring name? I mean, compared to Lucifer, Mephistopheles, Azrael…”

Markus rolls his eyes. “Well, most demons act on the unofficial rule that you don’t give your True Name to a summoner, because, as most people are aware, names have power. It’s not my _real_ name, but it’s what I’ve chosen to go by.” After a moment of thought, he leans one arm onto the table and gives her a devilish grin. “But, I’ll make you a deal - I give you my True Name, and you give me yours.”

Ashe looks at him, then at the hand he offers. She takes a deep breath, then grabs it. “Deal.”

It alights with the same fire, blue and black and pink and every color in between, but doesn’t burn, though she sees Markus’s eyes flicker black for the briefest moment, the faintest image of his horns and tail forming back where they should be.

“My name,” he introduces himself, for the third time, “is Velafi.”

When he says it, there’s a deep force there, the air shaking so slightly and the edges of the room growing dark, consumed by dancing shadows.

“Aesling.” Her skin grows goosebumps, and for a moment, she thinks she can feel an almost ethereal wind. “But you can call me Ashe.”

He looks at her, studies her, and opens his mouth, like he might ask a question.

Instead, he smiles, mouth considerably less dagger-filled this time. “Nice to meet you, Ashe.”

And thus begins the chaos that is living with Markus Velafi.

—

The demon sometimes known as “Markus” but other times as “Velafi, Godslayer, Thief of Broken Light, and Wielder of Eldritch Power” treks his way into the kitchen. Bags upon bags of groceries hanging from his arms (and the lightest, filled only with bread, being held carefully by his tail). Ashe is crouched over the computer, a thick journal resting in her lap and a small mound of books laying by her side. “Having a hard time watching out for you when I’m out doing your chores…” he mutters under his breath.

“If you’re going to stay here, you need to contribute!” Ashe replies, and he is somewhat amused that she heard him considering his low tone and her headphones.

As he lays everything onto the kitchen table, he asks, casually, “What were you doing while I was gone, anyway?”

“I just finished Madoka, starting Black Butler,” she mumbles, chewing absentmindedly on the end of her pen. “Then Gravity Falls, and the Grim Adventures of -” the screen flashes, light reflecting across her pale face “- ok, this show is really fucking weird.”

He looks around the corner of the wall separating them, watching her for a moment, almost certain that she’s joking. Her view remains focused on the screen.

The demon waltzes over, and she glances at him briefly out of the corner of her eye - there’s a weird raven or something on the screen, he’s not paying too much attention - before he grabs a couple of the books sitting beside her and checks their spines.

“Have you been reading _Faust?_ ” He inspects the book incredulously.

“I don’t speak German, it comes with a translation.” She fiddles with her headphones, then plucks the pen out of her mouth and scrawls something into the journal. Markus looks over her shoulder, but her handwriting is illegible. “I’m taking notes.”

“About…?”

“Demons?” She pauses the video, and takes off the headphones. “You’re not exactly being helpful, ‘blah blah blah deal’ whenever I ask questions. All I ever got out of you was names.”

“It’s a rule!” he pouts. She is unfazed. “However much you trade - quality _or_ quantity - determines how much stuff I can tell you. We’ve made a single, low-price trade.”

“Yes, and I’m not _selling my soul_ so I can find out what your _favorite kind of cake is._ ” Ashe glances pointedly into the kitchen.

“I only got five boxes of Lucky Charms this time… and a single box of instant cake mix.” Markus grumbles.

They stay there together for a moment, awkwardly, before Ashe looks back at the computer screen.

“I’ve got a second pair of headphones if you want to watch with me?” She holds up an old pair of earbuds.

He looks at her, before quietly taking them and sitting on the floor beside her.

—

It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday when the doorbell rings, a low buzz that echoes eerily through the house.

It startles Ashe, and she realizes that no one’s ever used the doorbell before. Sometimes they knock, or Thog is already lurking by the entrance and waiting for them, so this, she concludes, is someone he doesn’t know. They could be dropping by unannounced, but she doubted that any of Thog’s “friends” would even _try_ it.

She has no idea _where_ Thog is, honestly, and Gregor is snoozing on the couch, so she answers it, opening the great red door to reveal a man. He’s big and tall, taller than Markus even, and casts an imposing shadow with the dying light of the setting sun at his back. His hair is ruffled and auburn, and he’s smiling at her, the smile reaching his round blue eyes. An honest grin, though he seems to be a bit hesitant.

“Can I help you?” Ashe asks with what she imagines is an imposing look.

“I’m, uh, looking for Markus…?”

“ _Kier!_ ” A blur rushes by her as Markus all but leaps into the man’s - Kier’s? - arms in an enormous hug. The newcomer visibly relaxes and laughs shakily.

“First time in town in a while.”

The demon shrugs. “I go where the chalk lines and blood sacrifices take me.”

They each seem to notice Ashe for the first time as she watches their meeting uncertainly, still holding the door open.

“Ashe,” Markus gestures to the man, “this is Kier Fiyore. I made one of my first deals with him, we’ve been friends ever since.”

“The _best_ of friends,” Kier corrects.

She takes a moment to look Markus over again, and realizes that it’s not some sort of illusion, he really must be _that_ young. Kier couldn’t be older than thirty-five at the very most.

If he’s anything like Markus… Suppressing an all-too-wide smile from their infectious cheer, Ashe offers, “Would you like to come in? We’ve got a few extra boxes of Lucky Charms laying around, if you haven’t eaten yet.”

He nods enthusiastically, Markus still clinging to him like a koala, and she steps aside to let them both in.

—

When Thog comes up to her, calmly gripping her by the shoulder and leading her aside, he whispers a few words into her ear. “ _We need to talk._ ”

She’s confused, at the very least, wondering what bizarre reasoning he could have for this - and the look he gives Markus more than affirms that the demon should stay in the hallway if he knows what’s good for him. But, still, Ashe lets him lead her into the spare bedroom (which sometimes seems unnecessary, already more than able to support three and a half people in the house, but is helpful when Kier ends up staying the night on occasion). He closes the door behind them, and for a moment she can hear Markus grumble something from the hallway.

She sits, nonchalantly, on the bed, but he decides to stand, looking past her and then to the window several times, before finding the words.

The way he speaks… Ashe can hear experience behind his tone, a firm but uncertain look on his face. It makes her aware, for the first time, that he’s existed as someone other than how she knows him - snarky, sarcastic, and more than willing to get into a shouting match with her at 3 am. There’s a fleeting glimpse of kindness there, too, like the rare moments of him buying her favorite beer even though she didn’t ask, or pitching the idea of them covering half her rent for the month she was unemployed (even though he insists it was Gregor).

“It’s under my roof, so that’s the only reason I’m bringing it up,” he starts. “I’ve got nothing against him, and nothing against him being around you. But I need to tell you, Aesling, to _be fucking careful_ with Markus.”

If she’s surprised that he knows what’s going on, she doesn’t show it, instead choosing to give him a look. He rolls his eyes. “I know you know. Listen to me. Whatever he told you, whatever deal was struck, there’s a dozen ways he can twist it. That’s not to say he’s may not be a good guy, but demons are chaotic by their very nature. They’ve got infinite power at their fingertips, and the only thing that limits it is the deals they make.”

“And how do _you_ know all this?” she asks. “Not that I don’t trust you, but…” Her words hang in the air, accompanying a long moment of silence. Thog looks at her, finally, a seriousness in his eyes that seems almost desperate. He says but five words.

“I wasn’t always human, Ashe.”

And that is all she’s left with.


End file.
